


I'm With You Partner, Always

by Bitterlikesweets



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Dragon Quest XI Act I Spoilers, Dragon Quest XI Act II Spoilers, Eleven isn't mute or selectively mute, Erikcentric, Fluff, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Pronouns for Sylvando, Post Act II, Pre-Relationship, Sylvia | Sylvando Ships It, With a sprinkle of angst for flavor, almost entirely fluff, but he prefers not to speak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29097126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitterlikesweets/pseuds/Bitterlikesweets
Summary: Erik can't shake the feeling that something is wrong with him.He can't bring himself to leave the Luminary's side even after the battle is won, his friends are conspiring to make him confess to feelings he's not quite ready to voice, and Holy Yggdrasil, has his heart always thundered at just the sight of Eleven's smile?OrA story in which peace after the Fall brings Erik and Eleven closer than ever.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This story is pretty much a collection of scenes I thought up while running around Erdrea after Act II, so just be warned that there will be spoilers for Act I and Act II. Don't worry about Act III spoilers though; Erik and Eleven pretty much forget all about it before even getting to the thing that starts the Act in the first place haha. 
> 
> Also, I have the entire fic written already, so unless something comes up, I plan to update it every Saturday.

What can only be described as fear rushes through Erik when he sees Eleven descending the stairs leading out of Arboria alone. There's a serious set to his shoulders—stiff, slightly raised, that same awkwardness of a man always used to running forcing himself to slow down. Erik rushes across the plaza, past the drinks and the festivities—leaving behind a very distressed Hendrik, who stares desperately at Erik's back as the older Arborian women continue to launch embarrassing compliments at the Helidiorian knight—and rushes straight for the Luminary about to leave him behind. 

"Hey! Where d'you think you're going?" Erik calls out, warm relief flooding through his buzzing veins when Eleven comes to a stop, turning to face him. 

Eleven blinks, teal eyes widening slightly, as if he hadn't even thought of where he might go after this. Home, perhaps, but the way the Luminary rests a hand on the extra sword strapped to his waist tells Erik otherwise. Erik himself has his own weapons tucked in a bag in his room in the inn—defeating Mordegon and preparing for the celebration of peace was more than enough reason for Erik to gladly put away his blades, at least for a few days. 

Leave it to Eleven to always be ready for a fight. 

"Going off on a new adventure already?" Erik asks with a shake of his head and a small smile. He shifts and rests his hand on his hip. "You'd better not be thinking about leaving without me."

Eleven breaks into one of those soft, close-lipped smiles that immediately lifts Erik's spirits a little. He steps closer to Erik, shaking his head as if to say he wouldn't dream of leaving him behind. The initial fear from watching Eleven go fades to the back of Erik's mind. A part of him wonders why he's so scared to be left behind—there's no more fear of them losing each other for good, at least not like there was before. They can go their separate ways and still be friends, still keep in touch. There's no reason for him to be so scared of their separation, yet he is.

But Erik's joy at being able to stick by his friend's side quickly shoves those thoughts away. He can sulk all he wants about being apart when the time comes.

Erik hears approaching footsteps behind them, and he looks over his shoulder to see the whole of their party coming their way, with Sylvando leading them.

"Sneaking off without us, honey?" Sylvando asks, wagging his index finger at Eleven. "If you've got some place to be, we can all go together, no?"

Eleven's smiles again and nods firmly, and Erik's heart warms a bit at the sight. He's glad that their fiercest battle didn't end up being their last; he's fond of the group they've gathered, though every single one of them gets on his nerves once in a while.

Eleven glances over at Erik, and the former thief throws his friend a smile—he smiles even wider when he notices that his actions seem to brighten Eleven's mood even more.

It's so nice to see him smile like this. To see them all smile so openly, without the threat of the end of the world literally looming over their heads.

It still hasn't quite hit Erik yet. The fact that they restored peace, that they succeeded. That he was part of that success, alongside royalty, trained knights, and reincarnations of previous heroes. He's nothing compared to his friends status-wise. He's an orphan, a thief, an heir of nothing, and yet he fits in with them just fine.

He supposes that he has Eleven to thank for that. His partner in crime never judged him or criticized him. They just helped each other along, every step of the way. He was already at the Luminary’s side when the others came, so they took his constant presence at Eleven’s side in stride. 

Sylvando is saying something about world peace and how the fun can now begin, while the rest of their party just nods along. Eleven is nodding too, his smile now faded but his eyes still shining with excitement. 

Erik pitches in, mentioning that they should check out the strange light shining near Octagonia if adventures are what Eleven truly desires. He watches as the Luminary raises his hand to his chin, lowering his head slightly in thought. Then, after a moment, Eleven reaches down to the small pack hanging from his waist almost guiltily, and he pulls out a journal before holding it for Erik to see.

"Is that…" Erik leans in a little closer, inspecting the little journal.

After a moment, Erik huffs, a cross between a sigh and a laugh. It's the quest catalogue that Eleven has been diligently writing in for the entire duration of their journey—a complete list of every favor anyone in Erdrea has asked of the Luminary. 

"Saving the world wasn't enough for you, huh?" Erik asks with a shake of his head. "Should've expected this from you, honestly."

"Come on now, Erik darling, don't complain just because you wanted to lead our little adventure," Sylvando says with a slap to Erik's back. 

Erik rolls his eyes. 

"I'm not trying to lead anything; I'm just saying some things never change," Erik says with a shrug. 

"I agree," Serena adds, stepping forward and placing a hand on Eleven's arm, "but it's a compliment! You're always so willing to help people. It's admirable, really."

Eleven ducks his head down, growing shy beneath the praise. Hendrik, Jade, and Rab move in to put their own opinions about their new journey, and Erik shakes his head at them, though he doesn't actually feel annoyed or frustrated. They're his soft-hearted friends who always put others before themselves, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Sylvando leans on Erik, using the former thief's shoulder as an armrest.

"Admit it, darling. You love being knightly and helping others just like the rest of us."

"I never said I didn't," Erik says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches Eleven carefully scan the pages of his quest catalogue. "But… he's different from me."

Sylvando hums a little, shifting his gaze from Erik to Eleven.

"Yeah… I see what you mean. Me too, honey." 

Before Erik can get another word in, Sylvando pats him on the shoulder and marches over to the little circle of people surrounding Eleven. Hendrik is renewing his oath of unflinching loyalty to Eleven—which Jade rolls her eyes at, despite the fact that she's made similar promises before, though perhaps less dramatically. Erik meets the Luminary's gaze over Rab's head and cracks another smile. 

"Well, partner? Where are we headed first?"

~ ~ ~

They Zoom to Gondolia and are there in a flash. Most of the party parts ways at the entrance to the city, as per their usual routine—they could usually get whatever they needed done quicker going their separate ways after all—but Erik lingers by Eleven's side even after everyone else has left. Eleven tilts his head at Erik when he trails after him while on his way to the weapons shop.

"You're coming with me?" Eleven asks, and Erik perks up at the rare opportunity to hear his friend's voice. 

"Yeah. Thought I'd tag along if that's alright with you. I'm not really in a rush to do anything."

Eleven shows him one of his small smiles and nods. Erik nods in return and accompanies his friend as he runs errands around town—one of those errands being convincing a couple of brothers to drastically lower their prices to get what is apparently Hendrik's old armor, and the other being just running around and trashing absolutely every small barrel and pot he comes across. 

Erik can't help but laugh when he watches Eleven waltz into Doge Retondo's house and pull a book off the shelf as if he owns the place. Eleven looks back at him curiously, bright red book still in hand, but his complete ignorance as to what Erik's thinking just makes the former thief laugh even harder. 

"It's nothing," Erik says when he finally catches his breath. "But I'm guessing everybody's _real_ generous in Cobblestone."

Eleven blinks at him, obviously still confused, but eventually he nods and goes back to reading his book. 

The day they spend in Gondolia is remarkably peaceful—Eleven finds a few more requests to write in his little journal, and when they stop for a snack in the bakery, they catch Jade absolutely stuffing her face with some cake. Their eyes meet from across the room and she pauses mid-bite, cheeks coloring with a pink flush. Eleven walks over and wipes a bit of frosting off her cheek with a handkerchief he kept in his bag, like it's not a big deal at all, but Erik stands in the doorway, desperately trying not to laugh at her until a swift kick in the gut makes him fall silent.

But Erik and Jade's bickering quickly deteriorates when they notice Eleven standing in the center of the bakery, looking around the room in concern.

"Is everything alright?" Jade asks.

Eleven turns on his heel and walks swiftly out of the building as if he didn't even hear her. Out of it as he seemed, he probably didn't. 

"I'll go see what's up," Erik says to Jade before rushing out. 

He hears heavy footsteps and sees Eleven sprinting across the bridge. Worry worms its way into Erik's stomach as he chases after Eleven, following him across the bridge and down a flight of stairs until Eleven finally stops in front of a locked gate, his head whipping back and forth as he searches the empty area. 

"What're you looking for?"

"Hakim. Akia." Eleven says, quickly reaching into his pack for something.

"Who?" Erik asks. 

Eleven looks worriedly around the area a bit more before sagging in defeat and trudging back to Erik. He has the quest catalogue in his hand again. 

"People you helped?" Erik asks, and Eleven nods, though he sends a strange look in Erik's direction. 

Suddenly a lot of the Luminary's actions make sense to Erik. All day the man had been much more talkative than usual—towards the people of Gondolia, anyway. He was making a point of speaking to everyone he came across, stopping in every building and store. He must have been keeping some sort of mental tally, making sure everyone he had met was okay. 

Eleven stares mournfully at his quest catalogue, making it very clear that there were some people that might not be okay.

Something bitter twists into the worry that was already eating away at Erik's stomach. Here Eleven is, trying to look after people he'd only met once or twice, and Erik is… Well, Erik is with him, but not for noble reasons at all. He's there to kill time and to be around his friend for longer, that's all. 

"You don't remember?" Eleven asks.

"No," Erik says, unable to stop some of his frustration from bleeding into his words. "Not all of us are as selfless as the great Luminary."

Eleven's eyes grow wide for a moment before his eyebrows furrow and his head drops. Only now does Erik truly realize what he said. Blue eyes grow wide and Erik rapidly waves his hands in front of himself, physically trying to clear the air but not managing to do much except blow the loose strands of Eleven’s hair in front of his eyes. 

"No, that's—I didn't mean it like that, I—that was a jab at me, not at you. I promise."

Eleven shakes his head slowly, a silent, sad, _It's okay,_ that just has Erik scrambling to clear up the misunderstanding even more desperately than before. 

"No—look, you—I just—" 

Erik stops himself and takes a deep breath, though making his friend sad is distressing Erik in a way he never thought it would. He places his hand on Eleven's shoulder and his friend looks up at him, his expression already smoothing out, though Erik knows he's still bothered. 

"I'm sorry," Erik says, giving Eleven's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm… going through some stuff. Didn't mean to lash out. Why don't you tell me what we helped them with—jog my memory a little, you know?"

Eleven's gaze is focused on his feet, but he slowly raises his head to look at Erik, and Erik makes sure to smile when their eyes meet. Eleven's eyes widen for a bit and then he drops his gaze again, his cheeks slightly pink. Erik tilts his head at his friend, about to ask what's got him blushing when he feels a warm hand over his own.

He looks at the hand he has resting on his friend's shoulder and sees that Eleven has reached up and curled his fingers around Erik's. It's just a little gesture, probably his way of saying thank you or accepting Erik's apology. It's nothing really.

It's nothing, so why does Erik's heart jump to his throat at just that simple touch?

"R-right," Erik says, and he pulls his hand away. "So, let me see that little quest book of yours."

Eleven gladly hands it over, and Erik scans the pages before quickly seeing the name ‘ _Hakim’_ written in the Luminary's big, blocky handwriting. He reads the details; Hakim was a knight of Gallopolis, and he asked them to send a letter to his little sister in Gondolia. Reading a bit more, it seems there were a number of letters sent between the family before everything was alright. 

...Erik doesn't remember them. Maybe it's a blank spot in his memory—a leftover loss from the Seer's magical compromise. Maybe Eleven had met them on his own, when they were all running around by themselves across the cities.

Or maybe he just hadn't bothered to pay that much attention to them. 

Erik closes the quest catalogue and hands the journal to Eleven, who tucks it in his bag again. 

"They might be in Gallopolis," Erik says, brushing over the fact that he doesn't remember them and hoping that Eleven doesn't notice. "That's where they were originally from, right? Why don't we make that our next stop?"

Eleven's eyes grow wide and then he smiles and nods excitedly. Erik lowers his head a little, averting his gaze. His heart jumped again, and he's not sure why. It's happened a few times during their journey to stop Mordegon, but constantly running through danger as they were, he'd never had much time to think about it. Honestly, he still prefers not to think about it because his mind whirls with the idea that his friend might be able to catch him off guard with just a _smile_.

Something is wrong with him, surely. 

Erik clears his throat and turns away. 

"I'll go round everyone up for you so that we can Zoom out of here. Let's all meet by that weapons shop, okay?"

Eleven nods and Erik hurries on his way, scouring the city for their group of friends. He finds Hendrik and Rab in a heated discussion in the tavern, the former king's issue of Ogler's Digest on the table between them, though they both scramble to hide it when Erik gets their attention. Jade is still grabbing cakes in the bakery, and Sylvando and Serena are entertaining a small group of children—and a merman, but Erik decides not to question it—but everyone is more than willing to stop whatever it is that they're doing and rush to Eleven's side. It eases Erik's mind a little—this devotion, this desire to look after Eleven is not limited to Erik. All of his friends feel the same.

They Zoom to Gallopolis and Erik hurries after the Luminary when he immediately starts running around town. Eleven speaks to people on his way—no doubt picking up even more quests, Erik thinks with a roll of his eyes—and Erik can tell the exact moment Eleven sees the people he's looking for. Eleven suddenly slows to a walk and abruptly sags with relief, stiff shoulders lowering. Erik stays behind when his friend rushes over to the knight, the woman, and the old man. As they speak excitedly, Erik wonders how Eleven must truly feel about all this. If he really does remember everyone he's come across… How many of those people made it through the Fall? Does he feel guilty despite having saved the world because he didn't manage to save everyone?

Erik frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches Eleven eagerly listen to whatever Hakim and Akia have to say. He sincerely hopes that's not the case. They did everything they could; there was no use dwelling on things that couldn't be undone. It wasn't possible to stop Mordegon at first; they did what they could and that had to be enough. 

He would just have to talk about it with Eleven when they had a bit of free time. He didn't want his friend to become miserable over things they couldn't change. 

The friend in question runs back to Erik, looking considerably happier now that he found who he was looking for. 

"What else have you got?" Erik asks when Eleven immediately pulls out his quest catalogue again. 

Eleven hums a little, his eyes scanning his notes before pointing off toward the city gates. Erik looks into the direction Eleven points and nods.

"The desert it is."

~ ~ ~

They decide to camp out in the desert when night falls. They spent the afternoon scurrying around the desert trying to find special desert roses and shards of Erdwin's Lantern, so when they settle down around the fire while the desert cools in the darkness, Erik is more than happy for the rest. He leans his back on their pile of firewood, not quite ready to lie on his mat in the tent. Beside him, Eleven lays out all of the new items he bought that day across the sand, picking out things to tuck away in his bag or to pass out among their fellow comrades. The rest of their party is sitting on various logs and boxes they found nearby, besides Hendrik, who always manages to find a way to make a dummy to practice his swordsmanship on. 

"Oh my!" Serena says, leaning over Eleven's purchases. "Is that what I think it is?"

Erik glances over just in time to see Eleven fling a large black cape over his shoulders. Eleven crosses his arms over his chest and does his best attempt at a scowl before brandishing the Sword of Light that's always strapped to his back.

"You're mine now, Darkspawn." Eleven says, pointing his sword at Hendrik, his voice low and grating in an attempt to match Hendrik's own deep baritone.

Hendrik ducks his head in shame in response. His hand comes to rest over his heart and he bows slightly.

"I'd like to take this chance to once again wholeheartedly apologize for my actions to you back then," Hendrik says grimly. “It was foolish of me to treat you that way.”

"Oh relax, Henny Wenny! It's just a joke," Sylvando exclaims, but Hendrik only stiffens up even more.

"I... would prefer to not be called that," Hendrik says, glancing over at Sylvando, who’s sitting on half of a fallen log.

Sylvando's hand flies to cover his mouth as he gasps. 

"You mean you don't like the nickname your princess came up with?"

Hendrik pales as he shifts his gaze to Jade, who simply stares at him and waits for his reply.

"Er, it's not that I dislike it per se, but I must admit that I am not completely comfortable…"

"Come on, Henny Wenny," Jade says, a shift in the color of her eyes that Erik heard was an after effect of something that happened to her in Octagonia after the Fall—Erik was still wandering around like a lost soul at that time, so he never got to witness her so-called inner demon. "Don't tell me a big strong knight like you can't handle a silly name?"

"I...can handle it…" Hendrik chokes out, though he looks like he's barely hanging on to his dignity. 

"Come now, why don't you try on your armor, Henny—er, Hendrik," Serena says, her hand raising to cover her mouth. "I'm sorry, I meant to come to your aid there, but I'm afraid I got caught up in the moment."

"Come on lassies, be a little kinder to auld Henny Wenny, will ye?" Rab says, though he's been chuckling under his breath the whole time.

"Lord Robert, not you too!"

Hendrik throws a desperate glance in Erik's direction, but the former thief simply closes his eyes and laces his fingers behind his head.

"Don't look at me… Henny Wenny."

Hendrik sighs heavily and Eleven laughs—a rare sound that immediately fills Erik's chest with a trembling warmth like a flame in the wind. His eyes fly open and he sits up straight, angling himself to look over at the laughing Luminary without making it too obvious that he's staring. Hendrik has sagged like a scarecrow without a post, and Eleven leans over him, whipping the cape off his shoulders so that he can settle it on the dejected knight. His laughter shakes his shoulders and his eyes are nearly shut, and Erik hopes to Yggdrasil that nothing will ever take this memory from him—the ever serious Luminary, standing in their camp, surrounded by friends and just laughing. If he loses everything else, Erik wants to remember this. It all feels worth it now. Peace feels real when the hero of Erdrea is relaxed enough to laugh. 

And then Erik realizes how utterly _sappy_ his thoughts are and his whole face starts to burn. He rushes to his feet, grateful for the darkness of the night sky, and he hopes that the firelight doesn't illuminate his cheeks.

"I'm, uh, I'm turning in early tonight," he says, his back to his friends.

"Oh?" Serena says. "Sleep well then, Erik."

"Yeah, goodnight." 

He rushes to their tent without so much as a glance back, his face hot and his chest throbbing. 

Something is wrong with him. He doesn't know what it is or why it chose _now_ to rear its ugly head after spending over a year with the guy, but he wants to run away from it, to hide it away.

He most certainly doesn't want to put a name to it, so he settles onto the floor of their tent and does everything he can to not think of his strange thoughts and the smiles of the brown-haired man that has suddenly set his mind aflame. 


	2. Chapter 2

Erik awakens with something warm beside him. He tries to shift and feels something tug at his shirt, keeping him gently anchored in his position. There’s soft pressure on one of his arms, the other one of his limbs tucked snugly between himself and whatever’s beside him. He yawns and opens his eyes, blinking blearily into the morning light filtering through the seams in their tent. When he’s pulled himself enough out of his sleep to be a bit more aware of his surroundings, he notices brown hair. He shifts his gaze lower and sees a purple duster and calloused hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. A head tucked against his chest. Legs tangled with his. Warmth and gentle breathing that tickles his skin. 

His brain has a moment of total disconnect from his senses. He blinks away the last of his sleepiness and stares at the form before him, trying to figure out just what it is he’s seeing. 

“Eleven?” he mumbles, his mouth a mile ahead of his mind at the moment. 

Then it clicks. 

_ Eleven. _

Erik sucks in a breath and nearly jerks himself away from his sleeping friend before thinking better of it. His heart leaps to his throat with the violent force of an eggsoskeleton, but he manages to keep his cool enough to not let out a shout and wake his friend—no doubt causing even more painful embarrassment for the both of them. Instead, he takes a few calming breaths and tries to ignore the fluttering in his stomach and the pounding in his chest. This is no time to be feeling strange; he needs to pull away before Eleven wakes up. 

Erik tries to simply shimmy backwards a bit—he’s suddenly grateful for the fact that he always chooses to sleep near the edge of the tent—but Eleven grumbles in his sleep and simply holds tighter to Erik’s shirt. 

Erik takes another deep breath and tries to stop his mind from whirling. He slowly reaches out to try and pry the Luminary’s fingers off of his clothes, but Eleven grumbles again and pushes himself closer until Erik can feel his friend’s cheek against his chest. 

Erik completely forgets how to breathe. He stares, wide-eyed, at Eleven, who shifts himself in Erik’s arms until he’s snug against him, Erik’s feet twisted around his friend’s ankles. Eleven sighs softly and then goes still, leaving a frazzled Erik to deal with the mess that he’s created. 

Well.

He had certainly not imagined things would end up this way when they first met in the dungeons of Heliodor. 

Resigning himself to the fact that Eleven will not let him go—really, there's nothing he can do against the strength of the Luminary, and he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't enjoying this, at least in part—Erik drapes the arm that Eleven isn't using as a pillow over his friend and sighs softly. He lets his own head drop onto the head of soft brown hair, accidentally letting his lips brush against the stands but not feeling the need to pull away. 

It's almost funny, to compare how things are between them now with how things were when they first met. Everything was so stiff then, based on how much worth the other had. They were partners then, but more like business partners than the kind they were now. Erik needed the Luminary in order to be forgiven, and Eleven needed somebody to help him out of the mess he'd stumbled into. They'd talked, but only because Erik is naturally chatty and Eleven is far too polite. Their awkward conversations—always objective based, always aware of the pressures looming over them—grew a bit more friendly when Erik came to learn that Eleven's silence didn't stem from any sort of malice or annoyance. He started to become endeared by Eleven's unflinching desire to help others and the way he so diligently worried after Erik. Eleven was always healing him and buying him new weapons and armor—it was money they made together, and yet Erik was still surprised when it was spent on him. He liked Eleven's strength, he liked that Eleven was a good listener—most of the time, anyway—and before Erik knew it, he had made himself an irreplaceable friend.

Things changed between them after the Fall—after Mia. As ashamed as Erik was that his friends saw that cowardly, vulnerable side to him, it was almost freeing. For both of them. He'd seen Eleven hurt before—Erik will never forget his crestfallen expression when they stepped into the ruined Cobblestone for the first time—but he'd grown a bit protective over his friend during their journey and didn't feel right showing that same hurt in front of Eleven. He didn't want his past and his feelings to add more burdens. Mia and the Vikings caused Erik to drop his brave face in front of everyone, and they still accepted him just the same. They didn't act like he was any weaker for it. They just smiled and helped him along. Eleven especially softened around him, but not in a way that felt patronizing; in battle, they acted the same. If anything, Eleven started relying on him more in a fight, but outside of that… Well, there were nights when they would camp and Eleven would simply sit beside him, a calming presence, ready to listen if necessary. Erik knew that he could talk to all of his friends about any problems he had, if he felt the need to. 

A group of saps, the whole lot of them. 

Erik closes his eyes and curls his arm around Eleven almost unconsciously. Maybe he's become a sap too. He certainly feels less tough, especially now, in these times of peace. There's no Dark One, no enemy to chase after. There's no goal, except to help others and spend time together. The only thing that keeps their merry band together is the affection they all share for each other. 

Erik feels like a monster for thinking it, but he's just the tiniest bit grateful for Mordegon. Of course, if the Dark One had never been around, Yggdrasil would never have fallen and all those lives wouldn't have been lost, but…

Eleven shifts again, curling up against Erik, his hold tightening on the green shirt. 

If it weren't for Mordegon, Erik would never have met Eleven in those dungeons, never have become friends with him, never had the chance to see the Luminary let his guard down and cling to him in his sleep. 

Erik sighs at himself and shakes his head slightly. He really ought to go back to sleep. His hazy thoughts and Eleven's warmth make the morning feel like a dream already. Maybe it is one. After all, despite their closeness, it's not like it's normal for Eleven to just suddenly reach out and grab Erik in his sleep. Maybe because he fell asleep thinking of Eleven, he drifted off and arrived at this strange, lovely dream…

He accepts it as a dream and practically nuzzles his face into the top of Eleven's head, ready to fall back into a deep slumber and probably over analyze the reasons he's having a dream about cuddling his close friend later. 

"Oh, laddie, are ye awake?"

Erik's eyes peel slowly open. Rab would not be in any of his dreams, much less one like this. He raises his head and rubs tiredly at his eyes. When he glances around, everyone else is still asleep besides Rab, who is crouched at the entrance of the tent and squinting in. Erik's cheeks start to warm when he watches the old man's eyes sweep over the position the two young men are in. 

"I was, uh, just about to wake him up."

Erik's not normally so bad at lies, and he doesn't know why his skills have suddenly decided to abandon him. He tries to sit up but the hands clutching at his shirt drag him violently back down, and Rab chuckles quietly from across the tent. 

"Don't worry about it, eh? It's not like we need to rush. Let the boy sleep a little longer. He's earned it, don't ye think?"

Erik looks back down at his friend—the Luminary, the hero, the only reason anyone in Erdrea is alive right now. He thinks of how nonstop their journey was, never a chance for any of them to just relax—even if they did stop fighting or searching for clues, their upcoming battle was always on their mind. He could only imagine that it was worse for Eleven; their whole group faced Mordegon, but Erik knows that much of the pressure fell upon Eleven to actually complete the job.

"More than earned it," Erik says quietly, and Rab smiles over at him. 

"I'll go out and get us some breakfast. Why don't ye keep an eye out and make sure our pals stay quiet and let him sleep in?"

Erik nods and the flap of the tent falls shut as Rab slips out into the desert. 

With the old man gone, Erik redirects his attention to Eleven, his face still smushed against Erik's chest. Eleven always had a pretty bad habit of waking up later than everyone else, but Erik had never really gotten the chance to see him sleeping before; most of the time, it was Erik, Serena, and Veronica waiting outside an inn for their sleepy hero. 

Erik brushes a hand over smooth brown hair. He could only imagine the kind of things Veronica would say to tease the both of them about this, if only she'd had the chance. 

Erik's hand traces a path down to Eleven's shoulders, the shoulders that bore the weight of all Erdrea. He slides his hand down Eleven's arm, to the hands that have reached out for him so many times. Hands that don't need to wield the Sword of Light any longer, that could easily go back to a peaceful life in Cobblestone, once it's rebuilt. Hands that are choosing to stay with their party of friends—choosing to stay beside Erik. 

Warmth pools in Erik's chest, swelling inside him until he feels that he just might burst. He cradles Eleven's hand in his and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Something is wrong with him. He knows what it is but he doesn't want to admit it. 

So instead, Erik silently asks Yggdrasil to let him bask in this moment a little longer, and to allow her favorite little leaf the rest he deserves, after having not a moment to relax since the day he left his village. 

~ ~ ~

A loud yawn and fingers splayed across his chest cause Erik to wake up again. He squints into the daylight—it's much brighter now, and all his friends seem to have vacated the tent. Rab must have taken over let-the-Luminary-sleep-duty after Erik dozed off again. Erik sighs and stretches out the arm that he had lazily draped over Eleven; his other arm is numb beneath his friend's head and he longs to stretch that out too. 

Eleven stiffens beside him and Erik looks down at his friend to see wide eyes staring back up at him. 

"Oh," Erik says, grateful that he'd gotten through his embarrassment and distress earlier that morning. "Morning, sunshine."

Teal eyes widen. Eleven’s mouth drops open as red blotches bloom on his cheeks and spread across his face and down his neck. 

And then the Luminary screams. 

...Alright, so he doesn’t quite scream, but to Erik, it feels that way. 

Eleven lets out a distressed “Ah-ahh!” and shoves himself away from Erik with enough force that the breath whooshes out of Erik’s chest like a deflating balloon, Eleven rolling across the tent floor away from him. Eleven is red from his neck to his ears, his eyes wide as saucers and his chest heaving, staring down at his trembling hands as if he can’t believe that he touched Erik. 

Erik sits up slowly, rubbing his likely soon-to-be-bruised chest and trying to ignore the sour pit forming in the bottom of his stomach. The arm that was beneath Eleven’s head all morning begins to tingle uncomfortably as it struggles to push blood through the previously numb muscles. He keeps his gaze on the floor, unsure of what to say after being so violently shoved away. 

The clamor of dozens of footsteps alerts Erik to the approach of his friends, and he resolutely ignores the uneasy feeling brewing in his gut so that he can at least manage a smile when they come in. 

They’d all be willing to listen to him, should he wish to voice his feelings. He knows that. 

But he doesn’t want to, so he grins when they come in, frantically scanning the tent with their eyes for any sign of danger that might have caused Eleven to let out such a shout. 

“Is everything alright?” Jade asks, pushing past the crowd of people all crouched in the tent flap. 

“We’re fine,” Erik says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Must’ve just been a shock to see my face right when he woke up. His reaction was quite the show. Too bad you missed it.”

His voice is calm enough to deceive, but he still can’t bring himself to look over at Eleven. He hopes that it’s not enough to give him away. 

Erik feels Serena’s eyes on him, even when everyone else flocks to Eleven like a bunch of mother hens, and he knows he didn’t manage to trick everyone. 

She comes to kneel before him and places a soft hand on his knee. She doesn’t speak, but she smiles softly, and Erik ducks his head, mumbling a quiet, “Thanks.”

He feels another presence at his side and looks up to see Eleven also kneeling beside him, a bit less red now that he’s had a chance to breathe.

“You alright?” Erik asks. 

Eleven nods his head. 

“Sorry,” the Luminary says quietly. 

“For what?” Erik asks.

Eleven fixes him with a half-hearted and slightly miserable glare, silently telling Erik,  _ Don’t make me say it _ . Erik laughs, the sour pit in his stomach dissipating a bit. Eleven’s cheeks saturate with a vibrant red again, and he punches Erik in the shoulder. 

“Hey, watch it, this one’s numb from supporting your head all night,” Erik says with a teasing glare. 

Eleven’s mouth drops open, spluttering incoherently and Erik finds himself laughing all over again. 

“Don’t worry,” Erik says when he catches his breath. “I didn’t mind.”

Teal eyes grow wide and then drop to the floor. Eleven covers his mouth with the back of his hand, but not before Erik sees the smallest of smiles forming on his friend’s lips.

“I’m glad to see it’s all worked out,” Serena says, patting Erik’s knee again and reminding him that he and Eleven aren’t the only ones in the tent. 

Sylvando sighs, flinging a hand up to his forehead.

"Yes, yes, it's all well and good that they're getting along. But I'm jealous, you know! I'd like somebody to hold me when I sleep. Erik, darling, I don't suppose you'd be willing to—"

"No," Erik says immediately, causing Sylvando to let out a scandalized gasp, though there's a light in his eyes that says this conversation is going exactly where he wants it to. 

"But you said you didn't mind!"

"Yeah, I didn't mind because it's  _ Eleven.  _ It’s not the same with you."

“Oh? And what’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I—”

Erik stops mid-sentence, his mouth still open, regret surging through his veins and making his cheeks burn. Sylvando breaks into a devilish grin, leaning down towards Erik with his hands on his hips. 

“The difference, darling?”

Erik’s not sure why he didn’t see this coming.

He presses his lips into a thin line and tries his best to avoid Eleven’s gaze, even though it feels like his friend is boring a hole into the side of Erik’s head with his stare. Serena sends him a pitying smile but doesn’t look like she’s about to help him either. Erik’s blue eyes sweep across the tent—all of his friends are simply watching him, a mix of sympathetic and utterly amused faces staring back at him. 

He curses silently. Of all the times for them to—Do they really think that he’s going to—After seeing how flustered the both of them are just from sleeping beside each other—Not to mention the fact that Erik can barely admit to himself that he… feels the way he does, so how could he say it out loud  _ with Eleven right there! _

And yet he can’t exactly say that it doesn’t matter who he holds because Erik has no doubt Sylvando will worm his way into Erik’s arms just to prove a point. 

“Because Eleven’s my partner,” Erik says, considering the wording just vague enough to save himself some grief. 

“Meaning…?” Sylvando presses, but Erik crosses his arms over his chest, calm enough to attempt to regain control of the situation. 

“It means just that,” he says. 

“I’m not going to let you off that easy—”

“Alright,” Rab says, stepping forward and nudging Sylvando back with his staff. Erik is grateful to have someone finally come to his aid. “Let’s not have the laddie state the obvious for us. We’ve still got a bit to do before the day ends, don’t we?”

Scratch that. Not grateful. Not in the least.

_ State the obvious. _

Was Erik really…?

“I agree with Lord Robert,” Hendrik says. “Let’s be on our way.”

“Mm, I don’t know,” Jade muses. “I quite liked where this was going. But I suppose we could put it on hold for now.”

Sylvando looks disappointed, but he sighs and gestures beckoningly at Eleven.

“Fine. Come here, darling. Show me your little book.”

Eleven’s shoulders droop as he smiles gratefully at Sylvando, clearly relieved to no longer be the subject of a painfully awkward conversation. He chances a glance at Erik but whips his head away as soon as their eyes meet before rushing out of the tent and causing the others to follow after him.

Erik heaves a sigh as soon as they’re gone, shooting a glare at Serena, who still has yet to leave his side. 

“You were supposed to save me,” he says, and she laughs a little, tucking a lock of her short blond hair behind her ear. 

“I’ve saved you plenty,” she teases, prodding him in the arm with her finger. “I always do, when you need it.”

He softens a little at her words and he shifts his gaze down to his hands, hands that have reached for Eleven so many times. Hands that have stolen, that for a long time, thought of nothing but himself. Hands that left a little sister behind. Hands that are strong in some ways, but painfully cowardly when it comes to things like this.

Serena reaches out and places her hands on his. 

“You’re more than worthy, you know,” she says quietly, and Erik jolts, shocked by how well she was able to read him. “I’m sure he’d love to stand beside you, if you were willing.”

He pulls one hand out from beneath hers to sheepishly rub the back of his neck. 

“...You know me too well.”

She giggles.

“I can only think of a few people who know you better than I—” Serena pauses, raising a hand over her heart. “Better than  _ we _ do.”

They fall into silence for a moment, silently longing for the girl who would likely tell him off for beating around the bush. The girl who won’t get a chance to.

“How long…” Erik begins slowly. He stops, swallows, bringing his gaze to the floor. “Did you know, even back then?”

Serena smiles.

“When did  _ you _ know?”

Memories drift through his mind like clouds on a windy afternoon. Seeing Eleven’s stoic mask fall for the first time, staring into the ruins of his hometown. Grasping Eleven’s hand on the way to the Door of Departure, feeling like time stopped as they locked eyes. Their quiet conversations by the campfire. Jumping into harm’s way for Eleven when Jasper caught them in Gondolia. The fear he felt watching Eleven crumble to the floor on the day of the Fall. Wandering for those months, knowing that something— _ someone _ was missing, but not knowing who. Having Eleven by his side, supporting him when he found Mia again. Fighting for their lives together in that great fortress in the sky, praying that this would be the last time, that the Luminary would finally be able to  _ rest. _

Erik’s heart twists, warm but painful, agonizingly bittersweet. 

When did he know?

_ Always. _

There’d been something wrong with him—a pull that slowly turned into something solid, something that he could no longer ignore—from the very start. When that idiot started smashing pots in his dungeon cell. When Erik made it his business to talk to him—to know what led him there even though the curiosity, the desire to help was so unlike himself… That was when he knew, or perhaps, just began to know. 

Erik looks at Serena, the words caught in his throat. She laughs softly, reading him with ease. 

“I thought so,” she says.

...He’s really lucky to have friends like this. 

The rustling of the tent steals away their attention, though the warmth in Erik’s chest refuses to fade. Jade pokes her head in the flap, scrutinizing them.

“You two alright in here? We’re about to head out.”

“We’re alright,” Serena says, getting to her feet and dusting off her skirts. “Erik was still a little sleepy, that’s all.”

Jade raises an eyebrow at him.

“That so?”

“Yeah,” he replies, “but I’m wide awake now. Did Eleven say where we’re going?” 

“Off to pick up some things on islands scattered around the ocean, so prepare for a long trip on the Salty Stallion. After that, Sniflheim.”

Erik perks up at the mention of the kingdom where his sister is located. He springs to his feet and rolls out his shoulders. 

“What are we waiting for then?” Erik asks, though the irony of his statement makes Jade wrinkle her nose at him. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Serena so much. Especially Act II, short-haired, I'm-going-to-be-strong-and-live-for-myself Serena. She's 100% my second favorite character in the game (my first favorite being Erik haha)
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading, and the next chapter will be out next week! I hope you liked this one :)


	3. Chapter 3

The open ocean is freeing.

Erik leans on the railing of the ship and closes his eyes, his face tilted up towards the sun. At Eleven’s request, Hendrik sprinkles the boat with holy water every few hours to keep the monsters at bay, so they do nothing but glide through the water and bask in the afternoon light. Serena sits upon the center of the deck and plays her harp while Rab takes Eleven through some simple techniques he learned in Angri-La as a boy. Sylvando and Dave take turns steering their great ship, and Jade and Hendrik speak quietly of their future plans for Heliodor. 

The calm of Erik’s heart feels like nothing short of a miracle.

Of course, Erik does not shy away from a thrill; oftentimes, he’s one to chase such a feeling. But of late, the constant adrenaline rush came without a choice, so this pure relaxation is a welcome change. Besides, it’s not like they  _ aren’t _ currently on an adventure. Eleven’s book of quests continues to send them around the world and back again, searching for rare materials or some stranded friend. But they’re truly just traveling for the sake of it, and they can stop whenever they wish to. They’re not combing caves and desert islands because they need the treasure they find to survive—Erik has ogled their shared coin purse more than once, always amazed at how much they make just slaying monsters—but instead simply because they enjoy the journey, and they enjoy helping others as they go. 

Erik slouches onto the railing, his chin resting upon his arms but his head still angled towards the sun. The sound of the waves and the wind fills his ears, mixed with Serena’s gentle harp music in a wonderful symphony. 

Yes, Erik could get used to this. 

He can’t wait until Mia is well enough to come along. 

Soft footsteps make him crack an eye open just in time to see Eleven stepping into the open space beside him. Eleven, similar to Erik, places his hands on the railing and brings his head up to the sun. But where Erik is a gooey lump of relaxation, practically melting into the side of the ship, Eleven is standing tall as always. He grips the railing and extends his arms so that he can throw his head back, leaning so far backwards that only his feet pressing at an angle into the side of the ship keep him standing. The wind whips his brown hair up and out like a wide fan around his head, the whole of his face bright and almost golden in the full light of the afternoon sun. 

He’s gorgeous. 

Erik wants to say so, but his tongue weighs heavy in his mouth, unwilling to compromise with his heart. Erik thinks that’s probably for the best. 

But Eleven’s eyes are closed and oblivious, so Erik angles his head to gaze up at his friend, allowing himself to stare. 

“Done training for now?” Erik asks. 

“Mm.”

“Enjoying the sun?”

“Mm.”

“Having a good day after such  _ amazing _ sleep last night?”

Eleven’s eyes snap open and he loses his grip on the railing. His feet slip and he lurches backwards, arms flailing about as he tries and fails to regain his balance. 

“Woah there!” Erik says, rushing out to catch his falling friend, his arms slipping around Eleven’s midsection and nearly cradling him before he can fall and bust the back of his head open on the wooden floors. “You alright?”

Eleven stiffens in his arms, and despite the somersault his stomach performs, Erik doesn’t pull away or let go. 

“You alright?” Erik asks again, softer now.

Eleven’s cheeks burn red and he clings to Erik’s arms as he tries to right himself. Erik slowly but surely eases him upwards. 

“...was worried about you,” Eleven grumbles, stepping out of Erik’s arms when he’s able to stand on his own again. 

“Come again?”

“I was worried about you,” Eleven says, loud enough for Erik to hear all his words now. “Last night.”

Erik blinks, staring blankly at Eleven before it clicks for him. 

“Because I went to bed early?”

Eleven answers him with a nod, his cheeks getting redder by the second.

“...was just going to make sure you weren’t sick. But I laid down closer than normal and got sleepy so fast…”

Eleven grips the hilt of the sword at his waist, as if having a weapon in hand grounds him, while the Sword of Light strapped to his back gleams in the light. Eleven's eyebrows pull downwards as he stares worriedly at the floor, shuffling his feet. 

A knot sits between Erik’s lungs, pulsing with that bittersweet heat.

“Don’t go looking so guilty now,” Erik says, deciding to take a risk. 

He reaches out and grasps the hand bearing Yggdrasil’s mark, giving it a gentle squeeze. Eleven’s eyes grow wide and jump up to stare at him—they’ve grasped hands many times, but always with a distinct purpose. To pull the other somewhere, to help each other up. Erik absorbs Eleven’s expression as he grasps his hand just for the sake of holding it, watching as his friend can’t stop himself from staring at where they touch. 

“Thank you,” Erik says. “I slept well, and I’m feeling better, thanks to you.”

Eleven’s gaze is still locked on their clasped hands. Thinking that his friend must be uncomfortable, Erik begins to pull his hand away, only to be surprised by Eleven’s grip tightening considerably. 

“No,” Eleven says quietly. “Erik—”

The words are stolen from Eleven's mouth as the entire ship rattles and rocks, robbing them of their balance and their moment of peace. They release each other and cling to the Salty Stallion’s railing as they look frantically around the ship for the source of the tremors. Erik spies yellow tentacles slamming onto the deck, and something large and purple breaching the surface of the water and hoisting itself onto the bow of the ship.

“Oi, Boss!” Dave calls from his place at the wheel. “Looks like that ‘oly water stuff ye spread doesn’t keep the tentaculars away!”

The monster seems to roar its assent, slamming its tentacles onto the deck once more. 

Erik has always been the fastest in their party, but he’s in front of the great beast with his knives out with speed that nearly surprises himself. He hears his friends running after him, his eyes glued to the tentacle that rises up and prepares to slam onto his head. He takes a moment to sink into a half crouch, ready to spring up and make the first strike. 

“Alright, you overgrown squid,” Erik says, his voice low. “Seems like someone needs to teach you how to read the room.”

~ ~ ~

When they’ve finished their quests that take place on the many small islands scattered across the sea, they stop in Sniflheim, but only for a moment. Mia is missing, but Erik’s not concerned. He knows where she went. There’s only one place she  _ could  _ go, really. She never had the chance to travel, to see the world. She knows Sniflheim and she knows the only place they were able to call home, even if they did so reluctantly. 

Erik swears to change that. He’ll find her a real place to call home—and a place for himself too, while he’s at it—as soon as she’s well again. In his attempt to get her to stop sulking and to get her back to somewhere safe, he tells her as much, and promises that they’ll go on a grand treasure hunt, just the two of them.

His heart warms at the sight of her excitement before she resolutely turns her back on him in an attempt to hide it. 

“So let’s get you back to Sniflheim,” he says, jabbing his elbow into the back that still faces him, causing his little sister to yelp and fix him with a glare. “The sooner you get better, the sooner we go on our big treasure hunt. And you’re not going to get better cooped up in here.”

“Why don’t you just take me with you?” Mia asks with a frown. “I can get better while you go… wherever you’re going.”

“You’re not going to be able to keep up,” Erik says, ignoring the way she scowls up at him. “We run around all day and fight dangerous monsters that I don’t want near you in this state.”

“Monsters like Goldygga?” she snaps, but there’s no real bite to it. She’s resigning herself to her loss but still trying to land a few more blows. 

He leans down until they’re eye level.

“Not quite,” he says. “Because Goldygga wasn’t a monster at all, was she? She turned human again and isn’t ready to start fighting yet.”

Mia drops her gaze to the floor. 

“You’re the worst.”

He ruffles her hair.

“Ah man, I know you’re going to be so incredibly lonely without your amazing big brother, aren’t you?” he exclaims, raising his head haughtily but keeping an eye on her expression. “Maybe I should stay with you and stick by you  _ every waking moment _ to make sure that you don’t miss me!”

She’s quickly going red, her cheeks puffing out like the petulant child she tends to be. Erik does his best not to laugh.

“Ugh, don’t be gross! I’m not going to miss you  _ at all _ . I’m going to Sniflheim right now just so I don’t have to look at you!” 

She shoves past him, stomping off in the direction the majority of his friends are waiting. 

“Mia.”

She pauses by the exit.

“Just so you know, I’ll miss you, kiddo.”

Her shoulders raise up to her ears, and she huffs loudly. 

“Whatever! Leave me alone and go look for that guy that ran off!”

Mia sprints away into the snow, but her words make Erik’s eyes go wide and he frantically looks around their old hideout. Eleven had come in with him—didn’t say a word the whole time, but Erik had felt his presence by his side for most of the conversation. Where had he—when had he—

Erik spies footprints leading farther into the viking hideout and rushes to follow them. He finds the Luminary standing alone in the snow, his face tilted skyward. Eleven has both of his blades in his hands, though his grip on the Sword of Light is loose and the weapon looks like it’s about to fall at his feet.

“Eleven!” Erik exclaims, catching his friend by the arm, startling him, even though Erik knew that his footsteps as he raced towards Eleven in the snow were far from quiet. “What’re you doing over here?”

Eleven looks at Erik for a moment before shifting his gaze to the Sword of Light. His flat expression makes Erik uneasy; he’s used to seeing at least a bit of emotion on his friend’s face. This feels stiff, distant, like when they first met.

“You can stay,” Eleven says slowly, rotating his sword in front of himself, “with Mia.”

Erik blinks, releasing his hold on his friend’s arm. 

“What d’you mean?”

Eleven plants the Sword of Light into the snowy floor before him. 

“I didn’t think—” Eleven falters. “I should have thought about Mia when we left Arboria. You don’t need to come with me. You can stay and take care of her.”

Erik’s brain stutters to a halt. 

_ You don’t need to come with me. _

What… What’s happening right now?

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Eleven exclaims, but the Luminary’s face twists and squeezes his eyes shut. “But I—I can’t  _ keep  _ you with me.”

Eleven says the word “keep” like it means “trap,” spitting out the syllable with a mixture of guilt and disgust. Erik’s expression hardens. 

“Why?” Erik asks, stepping in front of Eleven, the Sword of Light between them. Eleven flinches and turns away. “Why can’t you?”

“Because you should—Mia wants to be with you, but because you’re with me, you—” Eleven drops his second sword and buries his face into his hands. “I can’t be selfish. The Luminary is no use to you anymore!”

It shakes Erik to the core. The way Eleven says “the Luminary” as if the title isn’t part of who he is, as if he’s just a tool. As if that’s the only reason Erik stood by him, as if that’s still the reason Erik is with him right now. 

His heart sits in the bottom of his stomach, leaving an aching hole in his chest.

Erik is stupid. He should have told Eleven, should have told him a long time ago. Should have shown that he cared, so that Eleven would never imagine for a second that he was only there because Eleven was the Luminary. It had been such a long time since Erik thought of their relationship as anything that transactional. 

Erik steps around the Sword of Light to be closer to Eleven, the action putting them close enough that their chests touch. Eleven stiffens but doesn’t pull away, his face still hidden by his hands. Erik reaches out and takes those hands in his own, gently pulling them away so that Eleven is forced to look at him. 

“Be selfish,” Erik says. “That’s all I ever am with you.”

Eleven tries to weakly pull his hands away. He’s strong enough to overpower Erik if he really wants to, so Erik just tightens his grip, and Eleven doesn’t try to pull away again.

“Look, I love Mia,” Erik continues, “and I want to spend time with her, but she’s not in any condition to go anywhere, and I’ll just drive her crazy if we’re staying put. And, more than that…”

Erik releases Eleven’s hands only to cradle the Luminary’s face in his hands. 

“I don’t know how to handle being away from you. I have my forgiveness, and we defeated Mordegon, but it’s not about that.” He rests his forehead against Eleven’s, his voice lowering to a whisper. “How could you ever think that it’s still about that for me?”

Erik feels hands at his waist, hesitant fingers curling into fists around the fabric of his shirt. Warmth floods his chest in a wave that makes his heart stutter. 

“I want to be beside you,” Eleven says softly, lowering his gaze, and Erik smiles. 

“Then, what’s the problem, partner? Don’t think that I’m unhappy with you; you of all people should know that I’m clear about the things I don’t like.”

Eleven laughs, and it’s different than when Erik was gazing at him from across the camp. It’s different when they’re this close, closer than they’ve been before. It’s different when he can feel Eleven’s breath, when that laughter makes his friend’s chest expand and be pressed flush against his. His gaze falls to Eleven’s mouth and he knows that his friend has noticed when he hears a soft gasp.

“Erik?”

It sends a shiver up his spine to watch his name form on Eleven’s lips.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me,” Eleven says softly. “Tell me why you stay with me.”

Erik brushes his thumbs across Eleven’s cheeks, and Eleven’s hands at his waist tug him a little closer, impatiently. Erik tilts his head just so, and they’re so close that their noses brush. It’s the first time that Erik has felt so sure, so confident about speaking his feelings aloud. He parts his lips, so close to meeting Eleven’s, and his friend’s eyes begin to fall shut. For once, Erik is ready. Ready to say what he’s felt for so long, to make a  _ real  _ move—

“Eriiiiik!”

A voice cuts into their world like a sword swinging through the air, and the two men spring apart, equally red-faced and mortified. Erik’s confidence drains and he nearly vows to never attempt anything like that again right there. He looks frantically around, searching for Mia—of course it was her, his lovable but  _ insufferable _ sibling—but finding that they’re still alone. She must still be in the hideout. 

“Wha—” his voice cracks when he tries to call after her. His cheeks burn as he clears his throat and tries again. “What?”

“Where are youuuu?” she shouts. “Everyone’s waiting! Weren’t you the one who wanted me to go back to Sniflheim? I’m gonna  _ freeze  _ out here!”

Erik can’t relate. Every inch of him is burning with shame. 

“Alright, we’re coming!” he yells back, forcing himself to turn back towards Eleven. 

The ever-elegant, oh-so-strong Luminary is a heap on the ground, curled in on himself with his face in the snow. Erik feels half-delirious and he absolutely guffaws at the sight, doubling over and holding his stomach as he laughs so hard it begins to ache. Eleven raises his head and pushes himself up onto his hands and knees to glare at Erik, but the look holds no power with his face looking like a ripe tomato and his hair covered in snow like a powdered donut. Erik is  _ still _ laughing but now his chest aches too because he can’t breathe between his wheezing guffaws, and for a moment he thinks he might pass out into the snow and die right there. Erik—incredible thief, companion of the Luminary, part of the group that defeated Mordegon—is going to fall right here, literally dying of laughter as he loses his mind over his almost-confession. 

Part of him almost wants to, just to escape the embarrassment. 

Eleven chucks a snowball at him and Erik falls to the ground, still clutching his abdomen and watering at the eyes, feeling like quite the sorry sight. Eleven is the one who lets out a bark of laughter now, though he slaps his hands over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the laughs that keep bubbling out of his lips. A futile attempt, apparently, because soon he's lying in the snow just like Erik, trapped between his guffaws and his desperate wheezes when he tries to catch his breath.

What a pair they are, truly. 

"Holy Yggdrasil, what is taking you so long—" Mia cuts herself off, staring down at the two idiots writhing deliriously in the snow. "What are you two  _ doing _ ?"

Erik sucks in just enough air to say, "Dying," and Eleven sounds like he's practically screeching, he's laughing so hard.

“The Dark One lost to  _ this _ ?” Mia asks incredulously, shaking her head in annoyance. “Ridiculous.”

Ridiculous. Yes, Erik thinks that’s a fine word to describe it. 

He’s never seen Eleven say quite so many words at once. He’s certainly never seen his friend laugh like this. Erik can’t remember ever laughing this hard, himself. It's kind of amazing, seeing his normally silent, mostly serious friend, showing such different sides to him. 

And yet he feels as though the cost for seeing these things was his sanity. 

Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. That’s absolutely right.


	4. Chapter 4

When they're calm again, they board the Salty Stallion and bring Mia back to Sniflheim. She throws another fuss just as Erik is about to leave her at the church—arms circle around his waist and clutch at the front of his shirt, and he can feel her face pressed into his back. She doesn’t tell him not to go, but she holds him there in the doorway, trembling. He smiles softly, patting her hands with his. 

“As soon as you’re ready, you only need to contact me,” he says, and her grip tightens on his shirt. “Give a letter to anyone around here and tell ‘em who it’s for; I guarantee it’ll make it back to me, somehow.”

“...You promise?”

“I do.”

Erik may or not be planning on asking Eleven to Zoom him here every week or so, just so that he can check on her, maybe ask around for any letters.

“And you’ll send me money every week? 10,000 gold.”

Erik nearly chokes. 

“I—yeah, sure, whatever you want.”

Mia laughs and pushes him out the door. He stumbles a bit before swiveling on his heels to face her once more. Her arms are crossed over her chest, a haughty upward tilt to her chin. 

“I’m joking, stupid. Though if you  _ did _ want to send me some allowance out of the goodness of your heart…”

She slowly extends one hand, palm up, grinning at him. Erik simply whistles and laces his hands together behind his neck, leaning away from her. 

“Ah, now that’s a cue for me to leave if I’ve ever heard one," he says, and Mia's outstretched palm quickly curls into a fist. 

Erik dances out of the way of the small hands that try to punch him, laughing a little as Mia glares at him. He turns away from her to head back to where his friends are waiting for him at the docks, but just before he truly leaves, he looks over his shoulder and catches her smiling fondly. He barely has the chance to smirk at her before her smile drops and she marches into the church, slamming the door behind her. 

Five years. Five years they were apart, and yet it's almost like they haven't changed at all. 

Erik's not sure if the thought makes him happy or not. 

Five years there alone, no chance to speak to anyone, to go anywhere, to truly grow up—

He buries the thoughts before his mind can circle around to the place where it always used to find itself—that it was Erik's fault, that he ruined everything for her. It's not entirely true. Five years and time barely passed for her. That's good. That's lucky, even. It means that they can continue where they left off. It means he can fix things, as soon as she's well enough for him to do so. 

"Oh, no, no, no, darling! This won't do. You can't be wearing such a sad face, you know! You better have shown that sister of yours a smile!" 

Erik blinks and looks up to find his friends waiting for him at the city gates, Sylvando standing at the head of their party and regarding him with a disapproving frown. 

"She's just going to worry if you leave her looking like that," Sylvando continues, but Erik manages a smile and waves him off. 

"Don't worry about that," Erik says. "I kept my smile up for her just fine."

Sylvando looks skeptical, but after a moment he sighs, shifting his weight to one side and resting a hand on his hip. 

"Fine, fine. But I'm going to keep an ear out to make sure you're not making her sad! Maybe I'll send one of my boys over here to keep an eye on her…"

Erik rolls his eyes. 

"You send one of them up here after all this time in sunny Puerto Valor and they might just quit the parade," he says, and Sylvando gasps.

"Don't underestimate my Soldiers of Smile!"

Erik chuckles, shaking his head, and Sylvando huffs another sigh. 

"But if you think she'll be alright, darling, I'll trust you."

"She'll be fine. She's tough. And besides, all this—" Erik waves his hand in the air, gesturing at the whole of Sniflheim. "—is probably going to be a cushy and pleasant surprise for her."

The group falls silent for a moment, and Erik tilts his head at them, wondering what's caused their grim silence. His gaze lands on Eleven, but his friend is glaring at the floor and doesn't notice him. 

"If I weren't aware of the fact that the Vikings were a valuable trade partner for Sniflheim," Hendrik says slowly, surprising Erik, "I would have half a mind to punish them for the way they treated you and your sister."

The Helidiorian knight's tight grip on the hilt of his greatsword tells Erik that "punish" just might equate to "strike them down" in Hendrik's mind. 

"Guys," Erik said, raising his hands in front of himself. "Don't worry about that, it's fine—"

The way they all snap their heads towards him and fix him with their frustrated expressions makes him fall silent. 

"It's not  _ fine, _ " Serena says firmly, and Eleven, beside her, nods his head in agreement. 

Erik feels like he should probably be concerned that his friends are so willing to attack the Vikings for his sake—especially considering that his friends are some of the most powerful people in the world right now—but the only feelings brewing in his chest are a sense of pride and warm compassion for the friends that care so much about him. 

He lowers his head when he feels his expression softening, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Words like  _ thank you _ stick in his throat and make his windpipe swell until it aches, so he scuffs his shoe across the floor and lets out a hearty sigh. 

"Let's not go too crazy with the violence, alright? Come on, we can't be done with all of Eleven's quests. We should head out while we still have some daylight.”

His friends are silent and for a moment Erik wonders if they really  _ are _ going off to “punish” the Vikings. (He isn't sure what he would do if they did. He can't help but be torn between his anger towards the Vikings and a sort of reluctant gratitude for at least doing the bare minimum for taking caring of him and his sister. Would he join in "punishing" them?  _ Should _ he join in? Erik still doesn't know how to feel about the fact that the Vikings never added Mia or anything that she turned to gold to their stash during the five years that he was gone...) But another moment later, he’s greeted by Hendrik’s heavy sigh. 

“...If that’s what you wish.”

“We should go somewhere with a good amount of monsters,” Jade says, “so that I can at least kick the life out of  _ some _ monsters that deserve it today.”

“There’s some great big dragons out by Dundrasil,” Rab suggests, and Erik looks up just in time to watch Jade crack her knuckles. 

“Sounds perfect.”

Erik shakes his head at them with a little huff. A group of violent freaks, the whole lot of them. 

...But he’s really, really happy to be with them. More than he could ever hope to express. 

Surely, this is what it must feel like to have a family—one that’s more than just a pair of orphaned siblings left in the snow. The Vikings technically raised them, but nothing about their rough, detached treatment of Erik and his sister felt anything like having a family. But this—what he feels with his friends—it's different. It's warm, reliable. 

He wonders if this is the sort of feeling the others talk about when they mention the comforting feeling of "home."

He catches Eleven’s eye as the Luminary prepares to Zoom them all away. Erik throws his friend a smile, relishing the way it makes his friend’s cheeks flush pink.

Erik wonders what Eleven would think, if he told his friend that his presence feels like home. 

He sees Eleven’s soft, close-lipped smile just before Zoom’s bright blue flash steals the image away. 

~ ~ ~

They fight in Dundrasil until night falls and they all but pass out at the campsite, sore from challenging dragon after dragon, as well as any other beast unfortunate enough to cross their path. They’re too exhausted to even put up their tent, relying on the blessing of the statue nearby to keep them safe through the night. 

In the morning, Eleven and Rab go up to pay respects to the fallen king and queen of their kingdom; the rest of the group stays behind, packing up their things in solemn silence. 

Their next destination is Puerto Valor, which is a drastic shift in mood, what with all the men running about, dancing and playing music. Erik moves to follow Eleven, hoping to squeeze in another moment alone, where he can hopefully finish what they started in Sniflheim without being completely embarrassed by anyone interrupting. 

But a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks. 

Erik throws a frown over at Sylvando, who simply grins impishly. 

“What?” Erik says.

“Oh, darling, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be stealing our little Luminary for the day. He’s going with me to visit my papi, you see.”

“Oh,” Erik says, determination deflating a bit. “Okay, sure.”

Sylvando smiles even wider. 

“I’ll send someone to get you when he’s ready for you!” Sylvando exclaims, before leaving him with another pat on the shoulder.

Erik watches him loop his arm through Eleven’s and practically drag the Luminary along towards Don Rodrigo’s estate. Erik frowns a bit, a confused tilt to his head. 

“When he’s ready for me…?”

Erik shakes his head, turning back to his party of friends only to see that the majority have completely disappeared, though he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. He can see Serena not far from here, likely roped in by the drummer and the dancers that surround her as she plays something on her harp for them to perform to. 

The former thief yawns and raises his arms over his head in a slow stretch. Sylvando made it sound like they were going to be here for a while; Erik considers getting them all rooms in the inn and just holing up in his own room and getting some rest. His knives could use some sharpening, and it’s probably better if he gets some sort of plan together before another confession attempt goes completely awry. 

His cheeks grow warm. 

He could barely even fathom that he might be having any sort of feelings towards Eleven the other day. It amazes him, how quickly his feelings solidified in his mind now that he actually has the time to think about them. 

Peace really is something incredible. 

“Hey, if you’re just going to stare off into space, I’m going to borrow you.”

Erik blinks and turns to find Jade eyeing him, her hands on her hips. 

She’s also dressed in a red swimsuit and drawing a lot of attention. 

Erik glares at several of the men around, especially the older ones with twitchy hands. One look sends most of them running off. He sighs at them, his own hand coming to his hip in his annoyance, wishing he could tell these men that the woman they’re staring at is the princess of Heliodor. Most people know better than to ogle royalty, though Erik sincerely wishes that they kept their ogling strictly to things like that magazine Rab always brings with him. 

“Borrow me for what?” Erik asks, once he feels as though he’s sufficiently scared any creeps off. 

Jade points at him. 

“For that. What you did just now. I need you to come down to the beach with me and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Erik feels like his brain cells dripped out of his ears and onto the floor. He blinks, tilts his head, still can’t fathom the request. 

“...Huh?”

Jade rolls her eyes and reaches out and grabs him by the wrist, dragging him with her whether he likes it or not.

“Pretend to be my boyfriend,” she says. “People won’t approach me if you’re near. I’d like to enjoy some quiet time on the beach, but I keep getting interrupted and offered propositions.”

“I—Oh.” Erik rubs his eyes with his free hand. “Wait, no, isn’t Hendrik better suited to something like this?”

“I would have asked him, but he and Lord Robert rushed straight to the casino,” Jade says, her nose wrinkling in annoyance. 

_ Ah _ , Erik thinks,  _ bunny girls. _

“Do I gain anything from this?” he asks when they reach the beach. 

“No, not really,” she says, turning to him with an eyebrow raised, as if daring him to leave her stranded here. 

“Fair enough,” Erik says with a shrug. 

He certainly thinks she could handle herself, having been on the receiving end of her powerful kicks for a multitude of reasons, but he also wouldn’t mind offering her a bit of peace of mind, if he can. 

He sits down on the warm sand, and Jade lies down beside him, stretching her arms out above her head and letting out a content sigh. He smiles at the sight of her before leaning back on his elbows, basking in the sunlight. He closes his eyes, completely relaxing in the warmth of the sun. 

It’s really too bad that Sylvando decided to pull Eleven away. Erik would have liked to rest with him like this, too. 

“I thought of something,” Jade says, and Erik cracks an eye open to look at her. “For you to gain from helping me.”

“Oh?”

“I may have a bit in the way of relationship advice for you.”

Erik startles, his elbows slipping, and his back slams into the sand. He curses when the small particles of sand poof out in a cloud around his head; it’s going to be an absolute pain to get it all out of his spiky hair. 

And Jade has the audacity to laugh at him. 

“...It better be good advice,” Erik mumbles, pushing himself back up onto his elbows. 

“Oh, I assure you, it will guarantee that you will get a… reaction out of my little brother.”

“A reaction,” Erik echoes, unimpressed. 

Jade repositions herself in the sand, crossing her bent legs and angling her head to look up at Erik. 

“Do you remember your swindler armor?” she asks, and Erik frowns at her.

“With the cape and all that? Yeah, I remember.”

Baggy high waisted pants, a turban, a black chest plate that just barely managed to actually cover his chest, leaving a good section of his abs exposed. Not his absolute favorite outfit, but certainly up there. 

“Well,” Jade says, unable to bite back her smile, “a certain member of our party may have mentioned that he quite enjoys when you wear that armor.”

She reaches up and presses a finger just beneath his ribcage.

“Particularly because it reveals your midriff,” she finishes.

Erik’s heart somersaults, the telltale heat of a blush beginning on his cheeks. 

“I’m listening…”

“What if,” Jade says slowly, “he were to see you, with perhaps a bit more revealed? We’re on a beach after all. Surely, it’s not too strange for a man like you to remove your shirt…?”

Erik can’t hold back his grin.

“He’s going to hate you, you know," he says, but Jade simply smiles. 

“Oh, but it’s not like I instigated anything, have I? Really, there’s no plan going on here at all. It’s just a natural reaction to being on the beach in this hot sun. Right, Erik?”

Erik laughs a little, a mischievous light in both of their eyes when their gazes meet. 

“Yeah, you’re absolutely right.”

~ ~ ~

A young man in a red and green feathered outfit comes to get Erik while the sun is setting. Erik is completely sprawled out with his chest in the sand, using his discarded shirt as a mat to lie on and keep any more sand out of his blue hair. 

Jade sighs when she hears someone approaching, raising her arms over her head in a languid stretch. 

"Nap time's over, I'm guessing?" she asks, her eyes still closed. 

"Sylv only told me to bring Erik along, Princess Jade, so I'm sure you could lounge a bit longer," the man says, clasping both of his hands beneath his chin with a smile. 

"No, no," Jade mumbles. "I won't be able to relax without my bodyguard."

Jade opens her eyes to look over at Erik, who is slowly but surely pushing himself upwards, though he looks and feels half asleep. 

"Thanks for that, by the way."

Erik just waves a dismissive hand at her, fully sitting up with a loud yawn. 

"Don't thank me; I barely did anything."

Erik rubs his eyes tiredly and then arches backwards a bit, trying to stretch out his muscles after lying down for so long, though he pauses his sleepy movements when they elicit a gasp from Sylvando's Soldier of Smile. 

Erik quirks an eyebrow up at him. 

"You alright there?" Erik asks, noticing that the man's eyes are lingering just a bit lower than where he should be looking in a normal conversation.

"O-oh! Yes, um, sorry, I just…" The feathered man fans his face a little. "Sometimes I forget that Sylv is traveling with such stunning companions."

Erik and Jade immediately exchange a look that makes Jade smile. She snatches up Erik's shirt off the sandy floor and is on her feet in a flash. 

"I'll be taking this back to the inn for you," she says. "Have fun with my little brother now, will you?"

She marches off before Erik has a chance to reply, but that's all the better for him anyways because her tone immediately had him tongue tied. 

The former thief is slower to get to his feet than Jade was, but once he's up, he gestures for the Soldier of Smile to lead the way, which he happily does—occasionally glancing back at Erik once in a while. 

Music seems to flood Erik's ears as soon as they cross the threshold into Don Rodrigo's estate. The Soldier of Smile begins dancing as soon as he's in range of all the sound, his mood brightening instantly. He looks back at Erik over his shoulder with a wide grin. 

"Boss is waiting for you on the training grounds!"

Boss being Eleven, if Erik remembers correctly. He hadn't been around for all that parade business, but from the stories he's heard about it, Sylvando gathered the group but passed leadership over to Eleven as soon as they were reunited again. 

Erik slowly walks in the direction of the training grounds, the number of dancing men seeming to increase as he walks. When he's close enough to see the training ground, his breath stops. 

In the training ground where knights normally train and spar, there's a choreographed dance being led by Don Rodrigo himself, in an extravagant feathery outfit not unlike his son's. But—as strange as that is on its own—what catches Erik's eye is the extra man on the left side of the performance, waving his hand in the air and excitedly swishing his hips back and forth with a big dopey grin just like the rest of the Soldiers of Smile. 

Except he's not a Soldier of Smile. 

Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that it's the leader of the Soldiers of Smile making the formation a little uneven with his presence and having a wonderful time in spite of it. 

Eleven's outfit is purple and white, unlike the others', but it still has those diamond patterned pants and the massive feathers sticking out from his back. And Erik simply can't get over how  _ happy _ he looks, throwing himself into the dance as Don Rodrigo shows off more complicated moves up front. 

It's ridiculous and silly and Erik can't believe he's watching the hero of Erdrea  _ and _ one of the world's most renowned knights dancing while dressed in outfits reminiscent of Sylvando's old circus job—though Sylvando still dresses like that even when he's not dancing, to be fair. 

Erik is so used to seeing the serious, stoic side of his friend that it completely throws him off balance to see him like this. Of course, he knows that Eleven led the parade after the Fall, but he never imagined that he would join in as one of the dancers, and so willingly—no,  _ excitedly _ . 

Erik sometimes forgets about the silly, softer side of Eleven, the side of him that jokes around and plays with children and pets cows and sings songs to mermaids when the human boy they heard a song from fifty years ago no longer has the voice to do it himself. Flute playing Eleven. Temporarily convinced Veronica to dress as a cat Eleven. Carefully coordinates all their outfits before battle Eleven. 

Erik smiles as he continues to watch Eleven dance his heart out. 

What an amazing way to be reminded of how fond he is of this side of Eleven too. 

"Oh, Erik, darling, you made it and—" Erik turns to face Sylvando just as the other man pauses, leaning back a little to look Erik up and down. "And you're half naked!"

"Oh, I just came back from the beach."

Sylvando narrows his eyes, a smile slowly forming. 

"Oh yes," Sylvando says, more to himself than to Erik. "This is going to work out really well." 

Sylvando slaps a hand on Erik’s shoulder, swiveling them both back around to face the dance and nudging Erik closer until they're standing in front of the raised circular platform where the dance is taking place. This close, Erik can hear one of the dancers counting off their steps and Don Rodrigo’s heavy breathing as he swivels his body around. He can also hear bits of Eleven’s laughter as the man beside him eggs him on (“Yes, that’s perfect, Boss! You’re doing amazing! Part of the Luminary’s power must be the ability to dance!”).

“Oh, Eleven, honey! Look who came to see you!” Sylvando calls over the music, waving his hand over his head to get the Luminary’s attention. 

Eleven and the man he stands beside both look up at the sound of Sylvando’s voice. Almost immediately, the dark haired dancer beside Eleven goes wide-eyed at the sight of Erik before turning back to grin at the Luminary.

Taking in the way Eleven goes stock still, his hand still raised in the air as his face immediately floods with a red blush, Erik safely assumes that Eleven was not at all waiting for him. Probably didn’t even know that Erik was going to come this way at all today. 

Which probably makes the fact that Erik is currently shirtless even more jarring.

Erik stands up a little straighter when teal eyes sweep over him, Eleven's mouth dropping open at the sight of him. Erik can't hold back a grin when their gazes meet, and Eleven grows impossibly redder upon realizing that he's been caught. 

Erik is certain that he’s enjoying Eleven’s embarrassment far more than he should, but he can’t help as his grin widens at the sight of his blushing friend, especially as teal eyes continue to stare at Erik in shock. Really, Erik’s doing his best to hold back a laugh, for Eleven’s sake.

“Didn’t know you were such a great dancer,” Erik says, and Eleven’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly, his raised arm finally falling down to his side. 

“Oh, come  _ on _ , Boss!” the dark haired dancer exclaims, shoving Eleven forward with his free hand—the other currently raised in the air as he swings a blue feathered fan back and forth. “Don’t be shy! Show him your moves!”

Except all of Eleven’s coordination from a moment ago seems to have abandoned him as he stumbles forward, arms moving in flailing circles as he tries and fails to regain his balance. Erik reaches out to try to catch him on instinct, but as he steps forward, he trips on something—sorry, was that Sylvando’s  _ foot? _ —leaving him on unsteady feet when Eleven crashes into him, sending them both falling to the ground.

Erik sucks in a sharp breath, struggling to get his bearings again. His mind whirls and his face is hot, and he notices things distantly, jaggedly, like chunks of shattered glass he's struggling to piece together. He feels a muscular chest against his. Long legs that practically straddle him. Calloused hands on his shoulders. His back pressed against stone floors. Long, soft, brown hair tickling his cheeks. Large purple feathers that almost seem to block out the sun. Wide teal eyes that stare down at him. Red cheeks that surely mirror his own. His heart trembling in an unsteady beat, like stumbling feet while running down a mountain, continuously uneven. 

The music has stopped, Eleven is on top of him, and Erik doesn't remember how to breathe. 

Eleven lets out a quiet gasp and his hands tighten on Erik's shoulders. Erik feels like his lungs are shaking and he waits for Eleven to scramble off of him or to shout or do  _ something  _ to break the silence that keeps tying his ribcage in messy knots around his heart. 

But Eleven just stares at him. Erik can track the path of those teal eyes as they roam over his face, linger on his lips, slide down to his bare chest. Tingling heat travels across Erik's spine and sets his nerves alight, but he stays still beneath Eleven, afraid to move, to breathe, to break whatever spell has come over the both of them. 

"Erik," Eleven whispers, and then he's leaning lower, closer. 

Erik's hands move up without thought, his palms going upwards until they can rest on Eleven's waist. His mouth parts slightly; he wants to say something, to say what he's been meaning to say—what he should have said a long time ago.

But Eleven's eyes narrow slightly, and he's pulling back, biting the lips that were so close to being pressed against Erik's. Eleven sighs quietly and buries his face into the crook of Erik's neck. 

"Not yet," the Luminary says quietly. 

Erik tries to push down the surge of disappointment welling up in his chest. 

"Not yet?"

"Not here," Eleven continues. "Not… with everyone."

"What, don't tell me you've got something special planned?" Erik teases.

Eleven's silence and the way he tries to hide his face even more is all the answer Erik needs.

"You're too much," Erik mumbles, but his chest is warm and his heart is soaring and damn it all, he just wants to  _ say it _ even though by now it feels like Eleven already knows. 

"Not yet," Eleven grumbles again, and for a moment Erik wonders if the Luminary can read his thoughts.

"Okay, okay," Erik says. "Not yet. But hopefully soon?"

Eleven nods into Erik's shoulder, shifting his hands off of Erik so that he can push himself up and off of the former thief. 

But the moment Eleven starts to move away, a cacophony of disappointed sighs and comments fills the air. 

"Boss, you were supposed to make your move—" "Come on, Boss, don't leave us hanging like that—" "Boss, he's  _ right there _ , that was your chance—" "We even paused the dance—" "We tried so hard to be quiet and make a nice moment for you two—" "Boss,  _ why— _ "

A sharp clap makes the Soldiers of Smile fall silent, and Erik looks up from his spot on the ground—Eleven hurried to put distance between them in all the commotion, but Erik is still a bit too dazed to think about getting off the floor—to see Sylvando with his hands pressed together in front of himself. Sylvando looks just as disappointed, if not more so than the others, but he just sighs and shakes his head.

"Leave them be, darlings," Sylvando says. "They're too hopeless for even me to do a thing about it."

All the members of the parade sag in disappointment but reluctantly voice their assent. When the music and dancing slowly begins to start again, Erik sighs and throws an arm over his face, still not moving from his spot on the ground. 

_ Not yet. _

But soon, right? Hopefully soon. 

Erik's really not sure how much longer he can wait. 


	5. Chapter 5

They stay the night in Puerto Valor. Sylvando commandeers his old bedroom in Don Rodrigo's mansion—the last time they were here it was being used as a storage room, which makes Erik wonder just how many years Sylvando stayed away from home until he reluctantly came back after the Fall, and also, how old is Sylvando anyway? The rest of them get separate rooms at the inn, though Erik still doesn't get much sleep, even with the help of the cushy bed. 

He's thinking of Eleven and his name on the Luminary's lips as they stood in the snow. He's thinking of Eleven's laughter, Eleven's dancing, Eleven's smile. He's thinking of a chest pressed against his, thinking of big teal eyes, of whispered words, of  _ not yet _ .

Erik wants not yet to be right now. 

But it isn't, so he spends a restless night with thoughts of the Luminary clouding his mind. 

When morning comes, Eleven informs them that their destination is Cobblestone—or rather, The Last Bastion, as it's been called since the Fall. 

Their party breaks up almost as soon as they step into town. Jade and Hendrik rush to go greet King Carnelian, who's directing the rebuilding of the village. Eleven runs off to greet his mother, and Rab follows behind, wanting to pay his respects to the woman who raised his grandson when Eleven's birth parents couldn't. Serena heads down to see what she can buy from the merchants and Sylvando takes it upon himself to lend a hand to the builders who are taking down the tall wooden barricades throughout the village. 

Long story short, his friends have scattered across the area and Erik is alone with his thoughts once more. 

He could visit Derk, but his old friend is busy running his business; with the Fall over and people traveling again, more and more visitors seem to be flooding to The Last Bastion, especially previous residents of Heliodor that had been in hiding until now. More visitors means more customers, and Erik is sure that Derk has enough on his plate already. 

He stops by Derk's tent anyway, just to check in, and finds his suspicions confirmed. Even Derk's wife is scurrying about, passing merchandise off to customers. Derk sees Erik as soon as he pops his head in the tent—his bright blue, spiky hair being a bit hard to miss—but when Derk tries to make time for conversation, Erik just waves him off, promising to catch up later, when he's not as busy. 

So Erik walks aimlessly through what's left of Cobblestone, staring in muted awe at the place Eleven lived in all his life. 

Truth be told, it's hard for Erik to imagine the village that it used to be; even before the Fall, the whole place had been trashed and burned to the ground when Erik first laid eyes on it. All the houses are rubble, and the half torn down barricades and shabby tents only add to the confusion. 

But he tries to imagine what it used to be like. Eleven as a child, a sheltered country boy running across the grass. The houses standing tall and firm in all their rocky Cobblestone glory. A village that didn't even know the truth of the boy they'd taken in, that didn't completely understand the destiny that he'd have to shoulder. 

Erik can only imagine how hard it must have been for them to let him go. Harder still, when he didn't come back. 

Even now, Erik struggles to imagine it—leaving Eleven behind—and he hasn't spent nearly as much time with the man as everyone in the village had. 

Erik's attention snags on a familiar head of brown hair, standing beside someone small and blonde and accompanied by a dog. He perks up a bit, raising his hand in preparation to call out to his friend, but he's stopped by a sharp tug on his shirt, and he looks down to see a small, dark haired boy looking up at him with wide eyes, a finger pressed to his lips. Erik raises an eyebrow at the little boy. 

"What's up, kid?" 

The boy pulls him off to the side before dropping his hands to his sides and letting out a little sigh. 

"Gemma said she had something important to tell Eleven, so I’m keeping watch and making sure nobody interrupts," the little kid says, puffing up his chest with a proud grin. 

"Oh, really?" Erik asks, glancing back at where Eleven and the little blonde—Gemma—are standing. "You have any idea what they're talking about?"

Erik's heard about Gemma before; Eleven mentioned her a few times throughout their journey, though Erik hasn't learned much about her aside from the fact that she and Eleven are childhood friends. 

She's staring at the floor, a small red scarf in her hands that she twists and tugs as she speaks, though Erik can't hear her from back here. Eleven looks as neutral as ever, but his eyes are focused on her, hands slightly held out as if he's debating on whether or not he should touch her. 

For some reason, the sight puts a bitter taste in Erik's mouth. 

"I don't know what they're talking about, but it's gotta be important if she told me she wants to talk to him alone," the little boy says. "They talk all the time, so this time’s gotta be different!"

The little boy curls his hands into little fists, looking up at Erik with a bright grin before his eyes go wide and he holds out one of his hands. 

"I'm Cole, by the way." 

Erik smiles down at him, reaching out to shake Cole's hand. 

"I'm Erik."

Cole's eyes go wide as saucers and he points up at Erik with a shaking hand. 

"Are you the Erik that traveled with Eleven?!"

Erik's smile softens.

"The one and only."

Cole sucks in a gasp, his eyes practically shining. 

"That's so  _ cool!" _ Cole exclaims, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "I want to be just like you guys! I'm gonna help people when I get older and I'm gonna be strong just like both of you!" 

Cole mimes swinging a sword and Erik laughs softly, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair. 

"You're gonna have to work hard at it to be like Eleven; has he told you any of the crazy secrets to his strength yet?" 

Cole goes still, looking up at Erik in awe.

"Secrets…?"

"Yeah," Erik says, nodding solemnly and not feeling as bad as he should for using this child's respect for his friend as an excuse to eavesdrop. "That could be what those two are talking about right now."

Cole goes silent for a moment, his gaze on the floor. He twiddles his thumbs for a bit before looking up at Erik again. 

"...Should we go check?" Cole asks, guilt bleeding into his words and spreading to Erik. 

"We can," Erik says, "but let's leave if they're talking about something else, alright?"

Cole immediately brightens and nods, and the strange pair begin inching towards Eleven and Gemma until they're in range of their voices. 

"...If I begged you not to go, would you stay here? With me?"

Gemma twists the little red scarf in her hands and hunches a little, her shoulders raised and bunched up near her neck. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s practically trembling. Eleven sucks in a breath, his face twisting with sorrow—teal eyes narrowing, sharp eyebrows pulling down and furrowing, a frown on those often inexpressive lips. He doesn’t say anything, but he reaches out and his hands gently cover her clenched fists. 

Guilt and something else—something bitter that makes Erik nauseous and unreasonably annoyed—well up in Erik and he quickly nudges Cole back, whispering to him that he doesn’t think they’re talking about anything Cole wants to hear. He tells the kid to run off, promising to take over his job and makes sure nothing interrupts Eleven and Gemma.

It was just supposed to be something silly, a bit of spying around until they were inevitably caught. Erik didn’t think—there was no way that he would’ve known that Gemma would—He just assumed that they would be catching up after Eleven’s journey, talking about gloomy things that Gemma didn’t really want a little kid to hear. 

How was he supposed to know that she had decided to  _ confess _ in the center of town?

Either way, Erik knows that he shouldn’t listen any longer, so he begins to inch out of range again, trying to be careful and stay out of their line of sight, not that it really matters, since they’re both so focused on each other. 

He knows he shouldn’t listen, but the bitterness snaking through his stomach and upwards to his chest encourages him to strain to listen, even as he moves away.

“I know that I should say that I’m just joking, that I should just let you go, but—” Gemma falters, bowing her head. “Eleven, I—I love you. I have for  _ so long _ . When you and Hendrik left to go fight Mordegon so soon after you came back, I-I just—”

She drops her scarf and buries her face into her hands. Eleven kneels down to grab it just before it flutters down to the grass. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Forget I said anything—”

“Gemma.”

Erik hates the way he tenses at the same time that Gemma does at the sound of Eleven’s voice. Hates that he’s still watching—Why is he  _ still _ watching when he really should  _ leave _ —He doesn’t like this, doesn’t like this side of himself. He needs to give them their space and let them be alone. He’s not being fair to any of them, but the bitter feeling coils around his heart and squeezes until he can’t breathe—

Eleven steps closer, gentle fingers combing into her hair and wrapping and tying the red scarf over her head, probably in the style that she’s worn it since they were kids. Gemma looks up with watery eyes, and Eleven pulls something out from the inside of his duster, a small blue charm that makes Gemma’s eyes light up in recognition. 

“You kept it…?”

“Because you’re important,” Eleven says, “but I… I feel… Towards someone else…”

Erik can breathe again, even though he doesn’t  _ really  _ know, even though Eleven’s never said anything to Erik about it. How stupid is he going to feel later if he speaks his feelings to Eleven and finds out that Eleven means someone else entirely—

But Erik is clinging to the idea of  _ not yet _ , and his heart sings with hope.

“Oh,” Gemma says softly. “Oh, that’s…”

She sags a little, but she reaches up and curls her hand around the charm Eleven is still holding out to show her.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she says, meeting Eleven’s eyes with a rueful smile. “One of your traveling companions, right?”

He nods. 

“Sorry.”

“No, no,” Gemma says, pushing the charm back to him. “Don’t apologize. I just… I just wanted to tell you. I’ve been missing you a lot, since you’ve been gone so much…”

Gemma straightens up, wiping her eyes with her arm before patting him firmly on the shoulder.

“I’m glad that you found someone,” she says. “I… What matters to me is that you’re happy. So, go and travel and do whatever you need to do. Just know that I’ll be here when you’re ready to settle down again.”

The big dog beside Gemma barks and she laughs, leaning down to pet it. 

“Me  _ and  _ Sandy will be waiting,” she adds before turning back to Eleven with a curious expression. “Which one of your friends is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Eleven opens his mouth to reply, and Erik sucks in a breath, waiting.

“Erik, what are you doing over there? Oh, Eleven too! Is that young lady Miss Gemma?”

Oh  _ no. _

Erik whips his head towards the sound of Serena’s voice as she waves at him from a few feet away, a bag of purchases hanging from her arm. And then he hears Eleven’s shocked “Ah!” and reluctantly turns back to face Eleven, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and letting out a sheepish laugh.

“Uh…” Erik begins before clearing his throat. “Hey?” 

Eleven’s cheeks are red as he points an accusing finger at Erik.

“This is why you got caught stealing the Orb in Heliodor!” the Luminary exclaims, and the sudden insult throws Erik completely off balance, whatever poor excuse he had been attempting to cook up dying on his tongue. 

“What the—where did that come from?!”

“You!” is all that Eleven can manage before stomping over to Erik, pressing his fist against his chest. “You—too ambitious!”

“ _ What?” _ Erik asks, not sure whether to laugh or to get angry. “First of all, I got caught making a ruckus in the castle ‘cause I was trying to let Derk get away—”

“Then you couldn’t get away yourself!”

“Yeah, okay fine!” Erik exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “But I’m having a hard time understanding why we’re talking about this right now!”

“Too ambitious!” Eleven says, bumping his fist against Erik’s chest again. “You...You were trying to hear even though I  _ told you _ not yet!”

“Of all the things for you to be mad at me about,  _ that’s  _ what—”

“Excuse me,” Serena says, leaning over to physically put herself between them. “May I ask what this is about?”

“And what’s all this about an Orb?” Gemma asks. “Are these your friends, Eleven?”

She looks at Erik and then gasps. 

“Is this who—”

“We’re going now!” Eleven nearly shouts, grabbing Erik by the hand and taking off running without so much as a warning.

Eleven drags Erik across the village, past the tents and the people, not stopping even as people call out to the two of them in concern. He doesn’t slow until they’ve put quite a large distance between them and everyone else, and Eleven doesn’t come to a full stop until they’re at what looks like the mouth of a cave at the foot of a rocky mountain. 

“What—” Erik begins, trying to catch his breath. “What was  _ that? _ ”

In response, Eleven groans and drops his head into his hands, shoulders dropping.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Erik says, “I just don’t understand.”

“This wasn’t supposed to—I was going to—I had planned—”

Eleven groans again and sinks into a low crouch, his head still in his hands. 

“I  _ hate _ talking,” Eleven admits suddenly, and Erik crouches down beside him. 

“And why is that?”

“Nothing ever comes out the way I mean it,” he grumbles. “Or, no—it comes out the way I mean it, but not the way I meant it to sound—no, that’s not—”

Eleven lets out a shuddering sigh.

“You don’t have to talk,” Erik says, but Eleven shakes his head.

“For this, I do,” Eleven mumbles miserably. “So I tried to—tried to plan it all out so that I could say it right.”

Warmth blooms in Erik’s chest, and he reaches out to pull Eleven’s hands away from his face. Trembling teal irises stare back at Erik, a frown on the Luminary’s lips. 

“Why don’t we start over?” Erik asks. “What was supposed to happen in this plan of yours?”

Eleven drops his gaze to the floor before sighing and looking up at the tall mountain before them. Slowly, he pulls his hand out of Erik’s to point to its peak. He opens his mouth and speaks slowly, carefully considering each of his words. 

“I wanted to climb the Tor with you. To show you the view.”

Erik smiles. 

“Well, we can still do that, can’t we, partner?”

~ ~ ~

The Tor is nothing like Erik expected. He’s heard about it being tied to the Spirit of the Land and being used for coming of age rituals, so when Eleven takes him through the monster infested caverns and across precarious cliff edges, Erik is surprised, to say the least. Besides a few markings on the rocky surfaces, Erik doesn’t notice anything special. 

Maybe he’s just traveled too much; there are very few locations that compare to the magic of being on Yggdrasil’s branches. 

He doesn’t voice any of these thoughts to Eleven; actually, they’re both quiet on the way up, save for when they need to fight the monsters they can’t skirt around. Erik can tell that Eleven is preparing, his brows slightly furrowed in quiet concentration, so Erik doesn’t want to interrupt. 

But he can’t help but gasp when they finally reach the top.

“Holy—you weren’t kidding about the view.” 

Erik steps towards the edge of the cliff and it feels he’s looking out on all of Erdrea, green mountains looking especially vibrant in the sunlight, the ocean sparkling in the distance. He feels like he can look over the world from this spot, high up as they are; it’s like the highest bird's eye view. He doesn’t even know if they’ve been this high up while riding Cetacea. Even if they have, it’s certainly easier to admire the sights like this when they aren’t riding upon the unsteady back of a giant flying whale. 

He hears Eleven’s sigh of relief and looks back to see his friend smiling fondly at him.

“Thanks for taking me up to see this,” Erik says, and Eleven nods, gesturing for him to keep looking out at the view, which Erik does without reluctance.

He steps close to the edge and looks straight down, whistling in awe of the drop. 

“Is it just me, or is this place a lot like that cliff we jumped off back in Heliodor?” He glances back at Eleven again, unable to bite back a grin. “Why don’t we see if we’re still the luckiest guys in the business?”

Eleven frowns a bit before his eyes grow wide with alarm and realization, but Erik is already facing the edge and jumping before his friend has the chance to stop him. He sees wide teal eyes and an outstretched arm out of the corner of his eye just before he flips, landing narrowly with his toes on the edge of the cliff, grinning back at Eleven who is still standing in shock, looking like his life just flashed before his eyes. 

Of course, Erik’s not stupid; the Tor is so much higher than the cliff they jumped off in Heliodor, and Erik’s honestly still not sure how they survived the fall back then. He wouldn’t  _ actually _ jump. 

But Erik can’t help but tease, especially when Eleven’s subsequent glare and crossed arms are so incredibly endearing. 

“I was just yanking your chain,” Erik says with a laugh, “but you should have seen your face—woah!”

A sharp gust of wind shakes Erik’s balance, and his precariously placed toes slip, and Holy Yggdrasil the pull of gravity feels so strong from up here—

He’s falling.  _ Actually falling _ and he regrets his little prank with every fiber in his being. It was just supposed to be a joke and now his heart is racing and he  _ still _ has yet to tell Eleven what he’s been wanting to admit for so long now—

And then a strong hand clutches his, and Erik looks up to see Eleven above him, eyes wide and pupils small with panic, holding him with a tight but trembling grip. Erik’s legs dangle and his body sways, but Eleven’s hold on him is still firm, and another hand joins the first on Erik’s arm, yanking the foolish thief back up and over the edge of the cliff. Erik scrambles over the rocky cliff face and Eleven is still pulling when he makes it back up so they fall backward onto the grass and land in a pile of tangled limbs side by side on the floor. 

For a moment they just stare at each other, still grasping each other’s hands and trying to catch their breath. 

When the silence breaks, it’s Erik, laughter bubbling in his chest and out of his mouth until he can’t stop. He ducks his head against Eleven’s chest and squeezes his friend’s hand, thinking about how absurd this all is and how many times his dear Luminary has had to save him for doing stupid things like this. It’s idiotic, delirious laughter. My-life-just-flashed-before-my-eyes laughter. It shakes Erik’s chest and back and shoulders until it feels like he’s passed that trembling right into Eleven. The Luminary seems to curl around him, burying his face into spiky blue locks and heaving a sigh that tickles the back of Erik’s neck. They stay like that for a moment, Erik laughing like that day in the Viking Hideout and Eleven just tolerating it, allowing Erik to clutch tightly at his hands a moment longer. 

“Man,” Erik wheezes when he’s feeling a bit more sane. “Never a dull moment with me around, huh?” 

Eleven snorts, and Erik smiles, closing his eyes.

“Eleven.”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Eleven goes rigid, and as close as they are, Erik can hear the frantic pounding in the Luminary’s chest as he makes an incoherent little choked sound, his grip tightening on Erik’s hands. Erik shifts, gently nudging Eleven’s head out of his hair so that he can look up and admire his friend’s shocked face. 

“Uh oh,” Erik says softly, his chest pulsing with warm pain that expands like a large balloon the longer they stare at each other. “Did I throw off your plan?”

Eleven goes red and he glares half-heartedly at Erik, which just makes the former thief laugh. 

“I was supposed to say it first,” Eleven says, and Erik sucks in a breath, his heart doing a clumsy flip in his chest. 

“I beat you to it,” Erik says, tilting his head up slightly and moving a bit closer. “But now it’s your turn.”

Eleven’s eyes narrow slightly and he brings their interlocked hands up to his mouth, brushing his lips against Erik’s knuckles. Erik's breath stills and he silently curses Eleven's royal blood because there's no reason his clumsy Luminary should be so smooth when it comes to things like this. 

“I love you,” the Luminary says quietly. “I love you, Erik.”

The warmth that bloomed in Erik’s chest flows through him in a wave at Eleven’s words. He pulls his hands out of Eleven’s hands to tangle his fingers in the Luminary’s soft brown hair, pulling him down until their lips meet, every nerve in Erik’s body practically screaming,  _ finally, finally! _

Eleven leans into him, his hands coming to Erik’s shoulders and tugging him closer as they kiss slowly, almost reverently, every touch and movement gentle, far more gentle than they need to be. Erik’s heart sings with satisfaction, his affection settling in him like a warm blanket, the pressure in his chest no longer so bittersweet. 

Something is wrong with him, and he knows what it is.

He loves Eleven to the point that it drives him crazy, to the point that he doesn’t have the nerve to let him go. Erik loves him and loves him fiercely, loves him with all the force of someone who has been at his side while running headfirst into danger, while having the fate of the world looming over their heads. He loves the Eleven that is strong, whose stoic expression barely falters in battle. The Eleven that is a hero, that holds his blades with pride. He loves the clumsy oaf that rummages through people's wardrobes and smashes pots and makes a racket in castle dungeons. The Eleven that is not ashamed to read books he's not supposed to or be completely unashamed when he peers into King Carnelian's closet and finds a pair of boxer shorts. He loves the Eleven that's silly, that dances and sings and plays the flute to summon a flying whale. The Eleven that deals with Erik's recklessness, that doesn't care that he was a thief, that always responds to Erik's relentless teasing. Erik admires every inch of him. 

And Erik finally corrects that "something wrong" thought process of his, because it's not the case. On the contrary, here, with Eleven in his arms as they lie together, closer than they’ve ever been, Erik's unsure if he’s ever felt quite so  _ right _ . 

It’s Eleven who breaks their kiss, but Erik can’t bring himself to pull away, so he lingers, pressing gentle kisses to Eleven’s jaw, his lips tracing a slow line down his neck. 

“I—” Erik feels the shiver that runs through Eleven and smiles, his lips still pressed to the Luminary’s skin. “I was going to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Erik says. 

“I-It’s hard to think w-when you—”

Erik’s fingers have found their way to the first buckle of Eleven’s duster, feeling that the coat’s tall collar is in the way, but he pauses his movements at the sound of Eleven’s words. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

Eleven takes a long time to answer, and Erik glances up to see Eleven averting his gaze, his face burning red again. 

“...No,” and the barely whispered answer draws a laugh out of Erik, who presses a kiss to Eleven’s jaw. 

“So, ask,” Erik says. “I’ll try to be a little less distracting.”

Eleven shifts on the grass, shyly burying his face into Erik’s hair again. 

“When Cobblestone is rebuilt,” Eleven begins slowly, “would you… will you…”

Eleven takes a deep breath. 

“I want you to live here,” Eleven mumbles. “With me.”

Erik’s eyes grow wide, and he tries to readjust so that he can look at Eleven’s face,but the Luminary stubbornly keeps his expression hidden. 

“Mia too,” Eleven says. “She could—we could all—”

Eleven’s hands find Erik’s shoulders and squeeze.

“You could be home here. I could be… I could be—” Eleven’s voice goes quiet, so soft that Erik can barely hear him. “I could be your home. I want to be beside you.”

The weight of Eleven’s words squeezes Erik’s chest, and now he’s the one ducking his head out of sight.

Home is something he's never had; his and Mia's little shack in the Viking Hideout was a place to go back to while she was there, but it never felt like a home—a place where he wanted to stay, a place that he found comfort with. To be offered something that he'd always desired but never achieved—and by  _ Eleven— _

“I—” Erik stops, swallows, slowly works up the courage to try again. “I’d like that. I—”

Eleven hugs him so tightly that Erik can barely breathe, but his heavy handed affection soon has Erik at the edge of laughter again, and Eleven’s subsequent content sigh and whisper of “Being selfish is really nice,” really sets Erik off, pressing his face into Eleven’s chest and practically laughing all the breath out of his lungs. Eventually Eleven joins in as well, and the two partners hold tight to each other as they laugh together on the top of the Tor. Thoughts of their adventure fade to the backburner of their minds, preoccupied with their affections and the promise of a future together. A future full of possibilities—treasure hunting, travel, or just the simplicity of settling down. Whatever they wanted, together. 

Erik doesn’t care what happens next, so long as peace prevails and he can stay by Eleven’s side. 

He reaches up and brings Eleven down into another kiss, the Luminary letting out a content hum and pushing himself closer. His eager movements draw another brief laugh out of Erik, and he smiles against Eleven's lips. 

"I'm with you, partner. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... And they forget all about that light they saw near Octagonia, so Act III NEVER happens.
> 
> I started this story immediately after finishing Act II, fully planning on continuing it into Act III, and then I actually GOT to Act III and plans changed immediately haha. I might write some angsty Act III fic, but I wanted to keep this story nice and fluffy.
> 
> Speaking of my original plans, all of that last scene at the Tor, except for the cliff jump thing, were part of my first ideas for this fic, so imagine my surprise when I hit post-game and stumbled on a cutscene that aligned so well with the fic???? I only ended up taking that brief jump part from it, so I didn't mention it as a spoiler, but I just thought it was an interesting coincidence. 
> 
> Anyway, before I ramble on for too long, I wanted to say thanks to everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to mention: I originally wrote this fic using my in-game name (Aereth) and then switched it to Eleven at the last minute, so sorry if there are any instances that I forgot to switch out. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
